Martinsburg Gazette And Public Advertiser

The general order of Philadelphia, and its exemption from all diurnal calamities and from frequent crime, are made the theme of exultation in public and private. We have enjoyed, however, for so many years, so general and calm a prosperity, that more mercurial spirits complain of listlessness and the want of excitement. It is a very long time since the Yellow Fever has paid us a visit, tornadoes are unknown, and no parks explode here; it is hardly possible for an extensive conflagration to occur in our streets, such are the activity and dexterity of the fire and hose companies: nowhere are dreadful accident makers more needed,—like those who are enlisted for the London journals; but none of this profession have as yet been imported. The climate, too, is becoming provokingly mild and regular.—Nothing happens to shock or startle;—the Malagro gatherers listen and prowl in vain. The cry of fire, when chimneys send forth a volume of smoke unusually dense or reddish, and the clangor of the coal-herald's tin tube, are the only stirring noises which animate the busy or vex the sensitive. The stillness and security of every quarter of the city at eleven o'clock at night, would drive the London Toms and Jerrys to utter despair. We have read, lately, of a village on the continent of Europe, whose inhabitants grew so tired of the monotony of quiet comfort, that they suddenly seized and burned an old woman as a witch, merely to excite sensation. Such an expedient is not to be recommended in the capital of Penn; but a public meeting might be proper, to deliberate upon the premises.—Ib.